Fall In Love
by freyiejj
Summary: France has to new song to record, but his guitarist backed out. What's he gonna do! (One-sided romance, I guess...)


"_Désolé_," the drummer said. "We could only find one guy and…well, don't do anything weird, _oui_? We can't find anyone else."

France sighed. "_Bon sang…_" A slight frown crossed the Frenchman's face. He had been planning to perform another song he had decided to call _'Fall In Love, Mademoiselle', _but the guitarist had backed out at the last moment.

"Will 'e be coming soon?"

"Ahh…_oui._ 'e had to pick up 'is guitar."

"_Merci, mon cher."_

After only about a minute of waiting, a shadow appeared at the open door.

"Oh, bloody hell." A grumpy English voice spoke up.

"Hmm?" France lifted his head to stare at his lifelong frenemy. "_Angleterre_, what are you doing 'ere?" France's eye travelled over the blond Brit until he saw the guitar clutched in the short man's hand. "Ohonhonhon, you came to help _moi, non_?"

England scowled. "I'm only helping you if you promise not to be a pervert for a least a week."

France gasped dramatically, hand flying to his chest in mock hurt. "I am merely spreading the _l'amore!"_

"Bloody frog! You called groping random people 'spreading love'?"

"Um, _monsieur_?" The two Nation's head whipped to look at pianist who had just spoken up. "We do not 'ave much time."

"_Oui, oui. Je suis désolé. Angleterre_? You can play zat, _oui_?"

"'Course I can, git!"

France crossed his fingers, hoping the Englishman would be right about that. He wouldn't want his beautiful to be ruined. Then again…England did also say his cooking was good, and that…stuff was the complete opposite. How did _Amérique _ describe it? _'Petrified couch stuffing'…_yes, that seemed accurate. _Merde. _Too late now

_Love is a wonderful thing,  
But it's also a fleeting thing  
The night is short,  
So come—fall in love,_ _mesdemoiselles_! 

France held his breath as England began on the guitar, afraid that he would be terrible, but his eyes flew open in surprise at the sound of the perfectly played guitar. _Merde, he's _good, was all he thought. But the Brit had stopped too quickly for the Frenchman to catch a glance of him playing.  
_Stardust overflows  
In the dreamlike capital of love  
See, if you look around,  
Everyone whispers of love in this rose-colored world_

_When that blue sigh turns crimson,  
Certainly you'll become even more beautiful than before_

_Risk it all  
Because the you who lives with love is so very beautiful  
So it's okay to walk with your head held high  
_  
_Mademoiselle_,  
_You,_ _mademoiselle_,  
_Are more beautiful than any flower_

This time, the instance he stopped singing, he turned to look at the Brit. There was a slight smirk on his face as his flingers flew over the strings. _Mon dieu, he makes it look easy. _It was true, the way he played; he seemed at ease. _This is worth not groping for a week._

_Sweet premonitions, swaying thoughts  
That's the proof that you've fallen in love_

_Laugh with all your heart,  
But it's okay to cry with all your heart too  
Your eyes that stare straight ahead are so lovely_

_Risk it all  
Because the you who lives with love is so very beautiful  
It's good to walk with your head held high_

_Mademoiselle_,  
_You,_ _mademoiselle_,  
_Are more beautiful than the stars_

_A wine glass, the shining _tour__ _Eiffel_,_  
The sparkling roadside trees at the _Arc de Triomphe_  
In this town overflowing with glimmering sights,  
You are now the one shining most brightly  
_  
_Mademoiselle_,  
_You,_ _mademoiselle_,  
_Are more beautiful than anyone._  
_Mon cher amour!_

_The __smile stayed on England's face for a brief moment, before the scowl came back at force._

_"What the bloody hell are you staring at, frog?!" he snapped_

_"You__, mon cher__," France purred back. The Brit spluttered, caught off guard. "Wanker!" He finally managed to get out, before spinning on heel, and swiftly leaving the room._

_"Ohonhonhon, __Angleterre! __You should release your sexual tensions, __non?" __ He called after the messy haired man._

_"__GIT!"_

_France stared dreamily after him for a moment, before a quiet cough disturbed him from his sexual fantasies. He turned to see the rest of the band staring at him, somewhat scandalised._

_"__Quoi?" __He questioned innocently, before turning back to continue his dreams of __l'amore._

_**AN: First APH story, yay! (Not like people care…)**_

_**Yeah…I don't actually shop FrUK. I only really ship GerIta and Spamano ^ ^**_

_**Only did this cuz I was listening to the song and I dunno…just thought of it? Iggy plays guitar in a different song anyways (I think)…**_

_**Oh yah! English translation of the song is here (I know the link won't work, soorrryy!): post/56926919869/koiseyo-mademoiselle-fall-in-love-mademoiselle**_

_**Also, I didn't insult Iggy's eyebrows throughout the entire **_


End file.
